Protecting Malfoy
by Duana
Summary: In the summer before sixth year, Voldemort is pissed with Lucius for his recent failure at the Ministry. Draco is punished in Lucius place. Harry watches nightly as Draco suffers. He offers Draco protection, if only to stop the visions. Slash.


**Chapter One**

A scream shattered the silence of of number four Privet Drive.

Vernon Dursley hammered his meaty fist on the spare bedroom door, making the numerous locks rattle and clink from the force.

"S-sorry." a shaky voice called from behind the closed wood.

Satisfied, the large, neck-less man clumped back to his own bedroom and slammed the door.

Harry sat gasping, for once grateful for his Uncle. His usual vision from Voldemort had been followed by a dream/memory of being possessed in the Ministry atrium only a few weeks ago. It was better than watching Sirius fall through the Veil, over and over, as was his usual nightmare. Which was often combined with watching Cedric fall, eyes blank and face slack in death, and with the soundtrack of his others dying scream.

At least dreaming of being possessed only hurt physically.

As his breathing calmed and his heart rate fell back to a more natural speed, he slowly remembered what he had seen through Voldemort's eyes. He could tell the difference between a false and true vision now, probably could have sooner if he had known such things were possible. Both Dumbledore and Snape must have known Voldemort might have been able to do it, so why had neither told him? They just told him he had to 'close his mind', not why or even really how.

He shook off the bitterness that threatened to swamp him and forced his mind back to what he had seen. Malfoy, he was being tortured, by his own Mother. Narcissa Malfoy had been laughing and smiling at Voldemort as she Crucio'd her own son. She had danced around the room with a fanatical gleam in her eyes, the familial relationship to Bellatrix had been very obvious. Malfoy's screams, whimpers and pitiful begging to his Mother still rang in Harry's head.

Harry's first thought was 'serves the arrogant little prick right' but did anyone really deserve to be tortured, especially by their own parent? The fact that it had been Narcissa was more than a little surprising. Lucius, Harry could have understood, the older Malfoy had always been Voldemort's lackey but he had never seen Narcissa involved before.

A glance at his alarm clock told Harry it was only a few hours away from dawn. He sat staring out the window for a long time, not really thinking, just... being. He tried not to think too much, his thoughts always came back to Sirius, the one adult to truly care for him, offer him a real home. Now dead and gone and had taken all of Harry's dreams with him, dreams Harry would have willing sacrificed in exchange for his Godfather's life. Worst of all, Harry knew it was all his fault. He would have liked to blame Voldemort or Snape but he knew rationally that Voldemort was only responsible in an abstract manner and Snape had actually passed on his message. The only people to really blame was himself for dragging everyone on a wild goose chase and Bellatrix Lestrange for dealing the death blow.

Despite his best attempts at not thinking, he still had to wipe silent tears from his cheeks when Aunt Petunia knocked on his door and screeched for him to make breakfast. He dragged on his clothes, cinched his belt tight enough to hold his jeans up and stepped through the unlocked door, wondering if he would be allowed a full portion of breakfast that morning.

After breakfast he cleaned up, hovered the house and spent an hour weeding in the garden before being kicked out and told not to return before dark. He wandered the streets before walking down to the small shopping area and buying himself dinner in the tiny café. The customers and staff watched him carefully, aware of his reputation and the fact that he attended St. Brutus School for Incurably Criminal Boys. They left him in peace though and Harry enjoyed a full meal, his first in a week, grateful he had asked Mrs Weasley to go to Gringott's for him and get some of his galleons changed into pounds.

He dodged Dudley and his gang by ducking down an alley, with a smirk he used a small wandless spell to untie all their shoe laces and watched as three tripped over, taking the rest with them. Dudley cursed furiously, punching his 'friends' who had fallen on him. He sniggered as he noticed the rapidly swelling area around Dudley's eye, looked like someone had elbowed him as they fell. Aww, Duddykins got a boo-boo.

He noticed Mrs Figg watching fro her sitting room window and smiled at her, knowing she couldn't know and had no reason to suspect Harry was behind the groups fall. He could see a smile returned to him before he strolled back out of the alley and to the Dursley's house, keeping far enough back from Dudley to avoid detection. He felt better than he had since _that_ night in the Ministry for the small laugh he had got at Dudley's expense. It was the first time he had smiled since then an it felt good to use a facial expression that was normally such a large part of who he was.

Uncle Vernon clipped his ear as he walked in for no particular reason, rattling on about skipping the corners while hovering. He mumbled an apology but wasn't surprised when he was sent straight to his room, Uncle Vernon believing he was being punished by his lack of a meal.

~ HP ~ HP ~ HP ~

He awoke with a gasp, thankful he hadn't screamed that night.

Voldemort had joined Narcissa Malfoy that night in torturing Malfoy, Harry could feel his muscles quivering from the after effects of the Cruciatus. Sweat ran down his forehead and stung his scar, which had split open through the vision.

His eyes were watering as he pulled himself slowly to the bedroom door and quietly turned the handle. He sighed in relief as it turned and opened. The walk across the hall seemed to take hours as each muscle twinged and threatened to refuse to support him. He landed in an ungraceful heap at the side of the bathtub and turned the taps on. He could only let them trickle slowly or the noise would wake the Dursley's. He rested his burning scar against the cool porcelain of the sink as he waited, enjoying the relief it offered.

He was going to have to try and order a charms book with a silencing spell in it. His usual Muffliato only stopped people from hearing the actual words used, not the sound of the words. He wouldn't have to worry about disturbing the Dursley's with his visions and nightmares then, or waking them by running a bath.

The pounding in his head died down to the feeling of a sledgehammer at work instead of a pneumatic drill as he waited and the shaking of his limbs lessened enough that it wasn't too hard a struggle to stand and turn the taps off.

He had to bit his lips to keep his groan contained as he slipped into the almost scalding water, feeling his muscles slowly ease. Sharp spikes of remembered pain and aggravated nerve endings made him twitch and the water slosh but as he soaked, they died out enough that he thought he would be able to cook breakfast without dropping it everywhere.

Malfoy's screams still ran in his ears and the sight of him danced behind his eyes. Malfoy looked barely alive, wasted, dirty and seriously fucking scared. Everything inside Harry cried out for him to do something, to save Malfoy. It was a stupid idea, though. Malfoy probably didn't even want saving, too proud to accept help.

He climbed slowly out the bath, pulled the plug and dried himself while he waited for the bath to empty. He rinsed and dried the bath, before washing the small towel he had used in the sink, used a wandless drying charm on it, folded it and crept back to his bedroom. The Dursley's didn't need to know he had used the bath without permission.

He penned a letter to Flourish and Blott's and asked for a charms book he vaguely remembered Hermione saying was good and as a post script asked for a book on interior design. He had been thinking recently, he didn't want to be an Auror, he didn't know what he wanted to be. He just knew he didn't want to spend the rest of his life fighting. He wanted to make things instead of destroy and as he had wrote his letter he had an urge to read about designing and decorating homes. He would be buying his own home next year, so it made sense to know in advance a few helpful decorating spells.

There was also an idea, less than half formed, in the back of his mind. He didn't like the almost idea very much though, so he pushed it aside and left it half formed.

He sent the letter off with Hedwig as she soared back in his open window and quietly went downstairs. He was already awake and dressed, he may as well start preparing breakfast.

~ HP ~ HP ~ HP ~

As Harry awoke for the third night in a row with Malfoy's screams ringing in his ears and his tear streaked face burnt on his retinas.

He gave a silent thanks to Voldemort for not joining in with the torture again. His head felt like it was about to split open from the pain that still lingered in his scar.

He lay gasping like a landed fish as a thought formed in his mind.

Enough was enough.

Distasteful as the idea was, he needed to at least offer Malfoy some help.

What could he do, though? The only thing he could offer was to let Malfoy stay with him. He didn't like the idea of Malfoy knowing about his 'home' life, he had kept how bad it was to himself. Once Malfoy knew, he was sure the rest of the wizarding world would know too. He could already imagine the headlines in The Daily Prophet.

Tear filled silver eyes haunted his thoughts and screams rang in his ears. He didn't really have much choice. Leave Malfoy to be tortured to death by a sadistic madman and his own Mother, or reveal his life to the world. The worst he could expect was ridicule, the best Malfoy could hope for right then, was a quick and painless death.

His decision was an easy one to make once he had thought abut it from that angle. He bit his lip as he considered what to write. He kept it short and to the point in the end.

_Malfoy,_

_Do you want to escape?_

_HP._

He ran a hand through his hair as he whistled softly out his window for Hedwig.

"Hey, girl. I need you to take this to Draco Malfoy. Only to him. Bring it back if you can't get it to him. Okay? It's really important that no one else gets it." Harry whispered as he stroked her beautiful plumage.

She nibbled on his ear for a moment before clasping the letter in a talon and swooping out of the window with a soft hoot.

Harry fell back on his bed, unsure whether to be relieved that he had at least done the right thing by offering – even if Malfoy didn't accept – or worried that Malfoy really would accept. He lay staring up at his ceiling as he watched the room slowly brighten. He pulled his clothes on just before his alarm should have gone off and went down to make breakfast.

~ HP ~ HP ~ HP ~

Harry rubbed his shoulder as he trimmed the garden hedge, Uncle Vernon had thrown the saucepan at him after he had scorched the baked beans that morning.

It hadn't been his fault, Dudley had turned the heat up and then distracted him but naturally, Duddykins could do no wrong and Harry was just trying to foist the blame off on an innocent by-stander. Yeah, right.

He saw Hedwig land in the tree at the back of the garden, without the letter he had sent her out with – Malfoy had got it, then – just as a plain brown owl landed beside him with a paper wrapped package. He fished an owl treat out of his pocket and stroked the unknown owls chest as he untied the parcel. He put it next to the back door, ready to take up to his room with him, before turning back to the hedge.

He cleaned the windows and polished the woodwork before he was kicked out of the house again. He grabbed his new books and walked down to the small café, were he had his breakfast/lunch and sat reading in a quiet corner.

**tbc... **


End file.
